


Fascination

by Ebyru



Series: Ep 7x21 'verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Season 7 Spoilers, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-06
Updated: 2012-05-06
Packaged: 2017-11-04 22:38:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/398973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ebyru/pseuds/Ebyru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is made Kevin's keeper. He enjoys watching him, and enjoys it more by the day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fascination

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for 7x21, hints of angst, slash.  
> I suppose Kevin is still underage in the story, so there's that too.  
> Beta'd by the awesomely fast icelily01. Thank you so much!

Castiel is fascinated by the overnight-prophet named Kevin despite having met countless prophets in his life. Kevin is so willing to believe, and yet unwilling to bend and change things to adapt –like his habits. He doesn’t want to be taken care of, doesn’t want Castiel to teleport him places, doesn’t want to be seen with the angel whatsoever. And whether or not Castiel is crazy doesn’t change the fact that he can still feel human emotion on a level he shouldn’t.

Kevin falls asleep in a motel room Castiel acquired for him, and it feels like temptation.

Dean isn’t around to see, can’t pretend he isn’t jealous, but Castiel wants to touch this boy nonetheless. Kevin hums as he shifts in the single bed, and Castiel does it without meaning to. Castiel wonders if keeping his eyes closed will prevent Kevin from being angry once Kevin wakes up and realizes he’s naked. No harm in trying.

Castiel moves toward Kevin, eyes securely shut, using his grace to find Kevin’s soul in the room. He stretches his hands out, feeling for the warmth of the teenage boy, but ultimately trips and lands on top of Kevin’s bare back on the bed.

Kevin lets out a squeal exactly the same as the one he had produced during their first meeting. It’s a weird sound that makes no sense whatsoever, but only edges along Castiel’s fascination with the prophet boy, encouraging Castiel to try and earn more.

“W-what are you doing, Castiel? Why am I naked?” Kevin says, his breath coming out in bursts.

Castiel leans in slowly. “It was a mistake. I don’t know where I sent your clothes.” He feels warm air against his lips, and stares down at Kevin’s parted ones. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t believe you,” Kevin says quickly. Too quickly. He does believe Castiel, in other words.

“I am sorry, though,” Castiel murmurs, pushing Kevin’s bangs out of his eyes. He’s warm, maybe he’s become ill.

The prophet’s skin turns bright red when Castiel’s index finger brushes against his lips by accident. “Why are you doing this?” Kevin whispers, sounding smaller than he usual does, even for such a young creature.

“What am I doing?” Castiel asks, moving away to sit on the edge of the bed, eyes intent on patches of skin he would be allowed to observe. Narrow shoulders, pale collarbones, mostly flat chest with two tiny, dark nipples, and hints of abdominal muscles. Castiel stops letting his eyes drift.

“That,” Kevin whispers almost sadly. “You’re always looking at me, touching me like I’m so perfect. I’m just a kid who got zapped by lightning, Castiel.” Kevin shakes his head, bringing his knees up to his chest. “I’m not special just because I’m the newest prophet.”

“No,” Castiel agrees, “you’re special because you’re you. You’re more human than any of them. And you will remain that way, independent and strong-willed until the end.”

Kevin’s lips part, his eyes widening, his cheeks even redder than before. “But you’re an angel,” he says, almost awestruck.

“I am,” Castiel concedes. “And a very rebellious one at that.” He laughs, reaching out to drag a finger down Kevin’s nose like he did months ago. Months before his protectors were slaughtered by Leviathans.

Kevin looks like he may want to laugh, but something changes his mind. He shifts on the bed, trying to pull the blanket over him. “So how long will I have to stay naked?”

Castiel looks up, contemplating. “Would you like some of my clothing? Or I can go out in search of more, if you wish.”

Kevin hides his face between his knees and mumbles, “Can I have your shirt?”

No sooner are the words out than Castiel is stripping out of it—manually—having taken a peek inside Kevin’s mind. Silly teenagers, always curious but never able to vocalize what they want.

Kevin wraps his arms around the white cotton, sniffing it quietly to figure out the scent of angels. It smells clean, pure, almost like how you’d imagine a mother’s love for her children would smell. It makes Kevin feel oddly pleased.

“Would you like my pants as well?” Castiel smiles, leaning closer to Kevin as if in league with the fragile child. It’s closer to being true than it once was.

“No,” Kevin says promptly. “What will you wear if you give me them?”

“I still have underpants,” Castiel replies flatly. “Besides, nudity is not a problem for angels.”

Kevin shakes his head, his hair swooshing in all directions, making Castiel want to touch it. He’s already reaching out and stroking through it, unable to keep his urges contained. Castiel cups the prophet’s chin, rubbing his thumb across the boy’s bottom lip.

Dark eyes snap up to his blue ones, filled with questions and worry. But, all the way down into Kevin’s soul, Castiel finds want. He desires this. He longs to be worshipped by something greater than he can fathom. No, it’s more specific than that. He wants to feel what it would be like with Castiel, but he’s afraid of what he’ll receive.

“Do you want me to—”

“Yes,” Kevin interjects.

Castiel doesn’t waste time, knowing humans are more changeable than weather. He draws Kevin’s lips into his mouth, relishing in the sounds he draws from the young man. Kevin leans in, but his hands stay on his knees, squeezing them. Castiel tangles his fingers in Kevin’s hair, cupping his head, pulling him closer, forcing his knees to fall apart.

Kevin breaks the kiss, eyes darker than ever but frightened. He’s afraid of asking for more, but Castiel isn’t going to stop.

Castiel fits between Kevin’s spread legs, close enough to feel the prophet’s steadily growing arousal against his clothed thigh. He wouldn’t be exposed right now if he would have accepted Castiel’s offer, but perhaps this is what he’d hoped for.

“Castiel,” Kevin whimpers, nuzzling against the side of the angel’s face, breathing in the scent of purity there. Heaven.

“Do not fear your desires,” Castiel mutters.

Kevin nods, his long, dark hair tickling along Castiel’s jaw. Castiel’s hand trails along his calf wrapped around Castiel’s waist. The boy whimpers, rolling his hips for more friction. Castiel closes his eyes, his fingers tracing along the pale skin of his thigh, stopping at Kevin’s hip bone. Kevin sucks in a breath, moaning Castiel’s name like a prayer. Like Dean once did.

“Please,” Kevin begs, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s shoulders.

Castiel turns, catching Kevin’s lips in his own and sucks them into his mouth, filling his hunger up with the heady flow coursing through Kevin’s pores. It’s absolutely delicious. Castiel’s nails scrape over Kevin’s hip bone then travel along his pelvis, running through coarse, dark pubic hair. Kevin sighs, his hips instinctually moving closer to the touch. Castiel bites Kevin’s lip at the same time as tugging once from base to tip.

The prophet throws his head back, Castiel placing his hand behind him just in time to avoid a collision with the wall. His eyes crack open slowly, nothing but tiny slits, but Castiel can see the heat in them all the same. Kevin pants when Castiel begins to stroke, his palm tight around the hardening length, beads of pre-come collecting at the flushed head of Kevin’s cock.

Humanity is so wondrous. That they don’t see it themselves is a tragedy.

Castiel strokes faster, watching the unravelling of his young charge, feeling nails dig into his shoulders as Kevin approaches climax. If it weren’t for the quickening of his breaths, Castiel would wonder if Kevin was enjoying it at all. Then, as if to prove the angel wrong, Kevin moans, muffling it against Castiel’s neck-which he gnaws at as a distraction.

Kevin’s tongue darts out languidly, and Castiel looks down at his handiwork in the meantime, dragging his fist over the prophet’s cock faster now, collecting the pre-come as he goes. Kevin arches, every muscle in his body tightening, and spills over Castiel’s hand like a volcano erupting. His teeth are still deep in Castiel’s neck, pressed against the angel’s pulse.

They don’t move, and Castiel doesn’t need to, but he knows Kevin fell asleep in his arms, wrapped around him like an infant. Castiel could never experience this with Dean; he was already broken before he found him in Hell. It could never be this peaceful between them.

Castiel climbs out of his pants and puts them on Kevin, tucking him back under the blanket. He pokes the prophet’s nose lovingly. Boop.

This boy is the bit of unexpected that makes humans a never-ending puzzle. But it’s time for Castiel to return to his predictable, faithful, righteous man for a while. Just until Kevin wakes up and searches out Castiel’s warmth once more.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this:  
> When it comes, will it come without warning  
> Just as I'm picking my nose?  
> Will it knock on my door in the morning,  
> Or tread in the bus on my shoes?  
> Will it come like a change in the weather?  
> Will its greeting be courteous or rough?  
> Will it alter my life altogether?  
> O tell me the truth about love.


End file.
